When I first arrived in Tumbler Ridge in May 1983, it was to cover the creation of a brand-new town rising out of the wilderness, a bold vision fuelled by the northeast coal development.
I was 25 years old, a cub reporter for The Vancouver Sun, sent north to document the largest mega project in British Columbian history. Over the following eight months, on three separate visits up to a month-long, I wrote 33 stories about the people, the challenges, the dreams, and the grit it took to build the northeast coal development and the town of Tumbler Ridge against tough odds.
I came back briefly for a week in 1990, after the arbitrate on decision that reduced the price paid for the coal and ordered a $45 million refund to Japanese steel mills for overpayment. It was a decision that shook the foundation of some of those early dreams. I wrote three more stories for the Sun.
And now, 35 years later, I returned once more in early July. This time it was to write the epilogue for an upcoming book that collects those historic articles, and to witness, once again, the strength, resilience, and heart of the Tumbler Ridge community.
What a pleasure it was to be back.
Tumbler Ridge has aged remarkably well. The surrounding wilderness is as stunning as ever, but now there are more than 50 hiking trails that entice one outside to experience the sweeping vistas and take in the remarkable dinosaur finds. I was wowed by the museum collection and exhibits. I spent enjoyable visits with TR old timers comparing notes and stories of the last 40 years.
However, it’s the enduring spirit of the town that struck me most. The pioneering, optimistic attitude that founded this place has matured into something deeply rooted and quietly determined.
This time, I also returned to attend the town’s annual medical conference, and to document a new chapter in Tumbler Ridge’s story: an exciting, community-wide effort to harness community spirit and connection to improve local health and help people with type 2 diabetes and prediabetes move toward remission.
For the last 10 years, my career has focused on raising awareness and helping people increase their practical skills to reverse type 2 diabetes. I’ve been the Director of Communications and Engagement for the Institute for Personalized Therapeutic Nutrition. We host two popular, patient-friendly websites, diabetesremission.ca and reversingprediabetes.ca. Both are full of accessible information and resources to help people lower their blood glucose levels. (Check them out.)
So, on the Monday morning of my visit, I gave a talk at the Willows Hall to a group of about 15 senior residents, most of whom are living with or at risk for type 2 diabetes. We talked about emerging research that shows for many people type 2 diabetes is not a chronic progressive disease, as once thought, but a condition that can be improved, even put into remission, through lifestyle changes.
We focused especially on food—how reducing the consumption of sugar and refined carbohydrates like white flour, bread, rice, potatoes, oatmeal, and other starches can lower blood sugar, reduce insulin resistance, and improve energy and well-being. I shared the science, the strategies, and practical first steps. I listened to people’s questions and challenges. The curiosity, openness, and hope in that room were palpable.
A pilot project is under way in the town to create community supports that wrap around patients wanting to try lifestyle changes to achieve remission. The diabetes remission project in Tumbler Ridge is still in its early stages, but I see the same spirit I witnessed in 1983: a community willing to try something new, to support one another, to face challenges together. Back then, it was about building roads and homes, mines and schools. Today, it’s about building better health.
The return trip bookends my journalism career in a meaningful way. I am now 67, a few weeks away from retiring. Tumbler Ridge was my first big assignment, where I learned to listen deeply, to look beyond the surface, and to appreciate the powerful stories found in small towns and big landscapes. And here I am again, my last assignment, still listening, still learning, and now sharing what I know about how we can be empowered to take back our health.
Thank you, Tumbler Ridge, for welcoming me once more. It was so good to be back. It won’t be my last. I will return as a retiree: I only hiked three of your incredible trails. There are so many more to explore.
